Found out amidst the threshing stones,
sort out of the cupboard of bones.
Where the situation was doctored
fell out that one not to be mastered.
Revenge consumes like any fire
and depends on sentimental air.
An action sought to set any aside
is vengeful if reason and sense coincide.
When anybody is singled out
the stone-casters dance about,
exposing ignorance and malice;
ironically with the drummers piece.
“Ah! But it is so, my mate and son,”
They grin with eyes all a sly glint.
“We can all have the same bait on,
Yet I catch and you are still skint.”
‘Never alive?’ I wonder not so loud.
‘Like déjà vu?’ And I’m yet helpful.
“Where many danced your dance proud,
You will be jeered and hailed a fistful.”
‘Is it me then, and my own luck?
Need I add fate, destiny’s slut?’
“We agree to prove only to mock.”
‘Then I’ll set bait and eat my lot.’
DOWNLOAD THIS POEM FROM
Collection of over 250 poems
The lesson in any story is found
And in any form it will astound
The minute detail of our simple act
Or corrects excesses in our daily act.